


not you against me

by Cancelpocalypse



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Family Drama, M/M, Pacific Rim AU, dimitri is less fine, faerghus four in the PPDC, felix thinks he's fine LMAO ... he's not, glenn . . ., if I write more there will be, not a lot of jaegers punching Kaiju YET, sylvain is newt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29584962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cancelpocalypse/pseuds/Cancelpocalypse
Summary: Felix and Dimitri assume places, side-by-side in SARA's mock connpod. They don the lightweight helmets, connected to the pons interface.Felix's eyes are locked on Dimitri, intense as the full-fledged Ranger pulls down the control panel and beeps in a couple more commands. His fingers pause, hover over a pulsing orange button."You ready? You remember everything? Don't chase the RABIT, let the memories--""I remember, I remember," Felix cuts him off.Dimitri presses the button.// a short thing to accompany some pac rim AU art I did for 2021 dimilix week!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Glenn Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: 2021 Dimilix Week





	not you against me

**Author's Note:**

> I know the fe3h canon names don't make sense in 2025 but also who names their child 'Stacker' so please bear with me and just imagine things make sense

_Hong Kong Shatterdome, 2025_

Felix wouldn't admit it, but he's nervous as he stalks out across the concrete to the helicopter that's landed minutes ago. He flips the hood of his jacket up in the cold sea mist and drizzle.

A brief radio from Rodrigue told him that his father had succeeded. Found him on Alaska's Wall.

And there's Rodrigue and his prize, now.

Anger bubbles in Felix's gut, a rising feeling he knew was coming.

Never mind that Felix is Rodrigue's son. This man he's fetched now, with a mess of overgrown blonde hair and the worn clothing of a labourer, is who Rodrigue's placed his hopes in for a first-class Ranger, for a future Marshal, the one who will succeed him at the head of the Eastern PPDC.

Rodrigue's never stated who's excluded from that role, then. Who's not in the running. But it's pretty fucking obvious. Granted, Felix has never wanted a headline, a magazine cover, an action figure. But it's the fact that he's not considered. Petty? Maybe. He would have tolerated the press that comes with being a famed Ranger, though. And beyond a doubt, they would've been the stuff of legend, he and his intended copilot, had everything gone according to plan.

But one thing you learn in the PPDC -- from the damned caprice with which the breach throws Kaiju after Kaiju to test the strength of Earth's frontline defenders -- is that nothing ever goes according to plan.

* * *

* * *

_5 years, 10 months ago_

The morning is frigid before the sun rises; that is, until you've run a couple klicks trying to beat your personal best.

Glenn is older than Dimitri by two years, but at the tender age of 17 and 19, they're near equally matched in speed, at least for short distances. Despite their youth, they're certified Rangers, with Dimitri the youngest in the East PPDC. Glenn graduated from the Academy at the usual age; Dimitri graduated at the same time because he was special. Marshal's kid.

The early run (six kilometers slotted for 5 to 5:30 a.m.) takes them from the Shatterdome inland a bit, outskirts of the city, to the seawall and back.

Breath clouds in the grey of the morning. First half of the run is an unspoken push. Their destination is not the return to the Shatterdome but a point at the seawall where they can steal a few minutes of freedom.

Dimitri glances at his watch (5:12.21 a.m.) as he slows to a stop in tandem with Glenn.

"Faster than yesterday," Dimitri pants. They've reached a corner of the paved running path where there's a break in the low wall.

Glenn's already abandoned their path; he's clambering down the rocks, moving down.

"Still too slow, Mitya," he calls with the bark of a laugh.

Dimitri follows.

They pick their way down, hopping and stepping on the maze of rocks dark with ocean spray, towards a larger slab of rock they've visited before. It makes for a good lookout point.

Sweat and ocean mist beads and settles against Dimitri's face, strands of blonde hair wet and sticking. Glenn's wavy hair is only half tied back; humidity has mussed the dark strands and exertion from the run colors his cheeks. The cold of the shore and the heat from the run is a delightful contrast.

They don't sit, knowing they'll be back on the running path in a couple of minutes. Glenn rests his weight on one leg, then the other. Dimitri bends, hands on his thighs, closing his eyes. The rhythmic yet frantic fury of the ocean on the rocky shore mirrors the hive of activity back at the 'Dome. Predictions has another Kaiju coming through the breach in 3 days; that means another drop for him and Glenn.

"Ingrid would like this," Glenn says. The comment is just audible over the noise of the waves. Dimitri looks at his copilot. "No flowers, no gardens, just a bunch of rocks and water," Glenn continues.

Dimitri wipes his hair back from his face after a thoughtful moment, straightening up. "Felix would like it too." There's a smile in the corner of his mouth as he looks out to sea.

Glenn looks at Dimitri sharply, teasing gleam in his eyes. "Double date?"

Dimitri presses both his palms to his forehead. "Glenn! That's not what I was implying –"

Glenn laughs, raucous. "Don't forget we got SARA later. Hahaha, I know what I'm looking for in the drift!"

"Like it's your first drift with me." Dimitri says, making a face. "And like I don't already know you miss him too."

"My sweet little baby brother?" Then something like fondness blooms in Glenn's always-scheming, nearly-always-joking expression. "Of course I do."

They stand there, on the rock, for a few more moments.

Glenn heels and begins the clamber back up to the seawall path. "Kinda miss the whole Academy. So much shit we're responsible for now," he says, louder as Dimitri follows.

"Haven't lost a fight yet," Dimitri calls ahead.

"Always a first time!" This followed by another raucous laugh.

" _Glenn!_ Don't – agh," Dimitri's foot slips on one particularly smooth bit of rock and he hastens to regain his footing. Soon enough they're both back up on the paved path.

"Hey, I was just kidding, we make a great team. We'll punch the lights out of every damn Kaiju the breach throws at us."

"Until the love of your life graduates and you become blind to everything else in the world but her," Dimitri says. He resumes a slow jog, and Glenn does the same beside him.

"Can you blame me? Have you seen her?" Glenn replies, grin wide, stars in his eyes.

Dimitri shakes his head. A bicyclist approaches from the other direction and they go in single-file until it passes.

"For real, Mitya, though," Glenn says as their runners hit pavement, in and out of sync. "Things'll be even better once we're all on-dome. You won't have to put up with me in your head all the time . . . I'll get to see Felix more, _you'll_ get to see Felix more –"

Dimitri elbows his copilot hard at the teasing tone, shoving Glenn off-balance, and breaks into an actual run.

"Hey!" Glenn calls, regaining his stride, speeding up his own pace.

***

As was bound to happen, Glenn and Dimitri's friends graduate from the Academy: Ingrid, Felix, Sylvain, Ashe, Annette, among others. Those named are stationed at the Hong Kong Shatterdome.

They are on-dome together for a month of orientation. Sylvain is like a kid in a candy shop in K-Science. Ingrid, spending time in Predictions according to her education, works overtime in the Kwoon with Glenn. You can often see Dimitri and Felix there, too, in the evening, crossing bos. Together, they lay plans to thwart Marshal Lambert's intentions for Dimitri and Glenn. Ingrid and Glenn have passed all their pre-drift tests, after all.

Ashe and Annette pass drift compatibility with flying colors in month 2. It doesn't mean they're quite ready to pilot, but they're allotted much more time in simulation. Practice for the real thing.

Should be Felix's turn for drift compatibility testing soon. Ingrid's also asking to be put in the lineup. The Marshal and Rodrigue – his right-hand man, East PPDC General – confer behind closed doors.

While unmade decisions are hanging in the balance, Dimitri and Glenn have one drop; the Aussie pilots come to help, and do most of the work. A category III, something that they've become used to by now. Doesn't reach the coast.

Yes, for the first couple of months, things are new and exciting and better, better like Glenn promised Dimitri.

****

"Point! Glenn, four hundred," calls a Kwoon passerby.

Glenn lowers his bo from Felix's chest with a laugh. The passerby is Dimitri, who steps towards the sparring mat in the warmly lit chamber, where Glenn has indeed just won a match against his brother.

Felix scrambles up in a huff. "It's three," he corrects Dimitri, who just laughs.

Glenn's younger brother is the same age as Dimitri, 17. Glenn's features are sharp, high cheekbones. The softness of teenage years are melting from Felix's own face to reveal a similar structure. You would know at a glance they're related. Both built strong but lean, as opposed to Dimitri, who is wider in the shoulders and can bench more than Glenn and definitely more than Felix. Glenn has one thing on Felix: a decent few inches of height. And Glenn's eyes are dark, dark brown, while Felix's are so light they look amber. 

"I've beat up Fe enough for today, your turn," Glenn says, checking his watch. He passes his bo to Dimitri.

"I almost won twice," Felix huffs, getting to his feet and going to his water bottle on the adjacent side of the mat. Felix knows better than to think he'll pilot with Glenn one day - Rodrigue has stated almost since Felix's birth that between the two of them, there is not near enough restraint to pilot a multi-million-dollar machine with thousands of lives in the balance. Felix's father can be moved on many things, but that line – he drew hard. Anyways, their sparring in the Kwoon is no attempt at proving drift compatibility, but it's fun nonetheless. Would be more fun, granted, if Felix could win more often.

"I'm sure you'll beat me eventually . . . maybe after the breach is closed and we're out of a job," Glenn says teasingly, pulling his hair out of its tie. He retrieves his phone from the side of the room, on the polished floor bordering the grey mat. A smile grows on his face as his thumbs move to reply to some message.

Felix, taking gulps of water, watches his brother from the corner of his eye.

"Ingrid," Dimitri explains with a little roll of his eyes, shrugging his Ranger-issue PPDC jacket off one sleeve at a time, passing the bo from one hand to another.

"I figured," Felix says, capping his water bottle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Dimitri assumes a starting stance. "En garde," he grins.

Felix matches his grin, a mirrored beginning stance. Glenn jogs away, likely going to his girl, as Felix begins sparring with his next partner.

***

Dimitri wins 3 times, Felix wins 4. It doesn't really matter. They don't need to talk about it; actions speak louder; what passes between their shuffling feet and anticipated strikes and continuous shifting and rotating of staffs tells of compatibility. 

It's Dimitri who suggests going to the 255' in the Jaeger bay to see the progress on the Mach Winter's visor. They're upgrading it to a hexshield design.

"We aren't supposed to go there now," Felix says as they're striking out for the elevator nevertheless. "Glenn's giving you ideas, isn't he?"

"Maybe so," Dimitri replies. "He keeps pointing out that I'm the Marshal's kid and so I can do what I want. But it's precisely because of that that I shouldn't do whatever I want!"

"This isn't whatever you want, I also want to see the visor."

"OK. In the name of charity."

They make it to the elevator. A contract electrician exits and they go in, laughing about something else as Dimitri presses the button and the warning lights flash. Door closes and the warning lights and beeping stop; elevator shudders into upwards motion.

Then they're just standing together, quieting.

"We're drift compatible, aren't we?" Felix is the first to say. "You feel it, don't you?"

Dimitri gives him a sure nod.

"Even if he saw us spar, do you think Lambert would still force you and Glenn to be copilots? Would he even let us get drift tested?" Felix says, uncertain.

Dimitri frowns for a moment, then a smile that looks a little mischievous replaces it. "Well . . . SARA . . ."

Felix catches on immediately. "We test ourselves first?"

"Yes! 8th block . . . 8th block Tuesday, I can come up with an excuse to get out of Strategy."

"Tch! You're getting as good as Glenn at this stuff."

"I'm catching on, in the drift."

They're looking at each other even as the elevator slows. Close, and private. Dimitri's hand moves to brush back some of the strands of long, dark hair that their sparring has freed from Felix's messy bun. He tucks these wayward strands behind one of Felix's ears. Felix's lips part, slightly, in surprise, but he doesn't move back.

The elevator slows to their destination floor. 

***

On Tuesday, in 8th block, the professor for Strategy class teaches a class minus two. See, Dimitri is to be attending an important call with his uncle, and Felix is to assist his Ranger brother with some requested task, which said brother confirmed in good faith.

On Felix's phone, the latest text from Glenn says: _drift drift drift don't forget to save the record plus diagnostics_

The more proof that Dimitri has another copilot ready and waiting for him, the better the case for Glenn and Ingrid to pilot together.

On Dimitri's phone, the latest text from Glenn says: _take your time ... haha_

First drifts are always messy and usually not stable. Two worldviews, two histories, two perceptions clash -- makes it hard to get your bearings, and you often flounder before you learn to swim with your copilot, to make sense of the overlaid realities.

Dimitri and Felix shutter and lock the windows looking into SARA. SARA is a biotech brain for practicing a drift in a one-sided manner; acts as stabilization if needed for a practice drift with a partner, if you bring one in. She's sleeping today, though, as Dimitri inputs the desired settings. "We won't need her," he tells Felix, sounding confident.

They assume places, standing side-by-side as if in a real ConnPod. They don the lightweight helmets, connected to the pons interface. 

Felix's eyes are locked on Dimitri, intense as the full-fledged Ranger pulls down the control panel and beeps in a couple more commands. His fingers pause and hover over a pulsing orange button.

"You ready? You remember everything? Don't chase the RABIT, let the memories--"

"I remember, I remember," Felix cuts him off. 

Dimitri presses the button.

It hits Felix: the wave that is Dimitri. He recognizes faces and feels what Dimitri feels toward them -- there's Lambert, solid and clear and a solace. There's a blurry impression of his mother, who died when he was young; a distant sadness, eased by time and unfamiliarity. There's Felix and Glenn, bright impressions -- they've all known each other since childhood. There are places and events that Felix feels more than sees, but he lets the chronology of Dimitri's life whip by, as he knows he has to. Hopefully there will be ample time to walk these scenes together, later. 

Then Felix is arriving to the present Dimitri. He meets him in the drift. They collide; they see together. Thoughts coalesce. Emotions blend and swirl. They tangle and untangle, working together, an awkward and exhilarated pair trying this powerful thing for the first time. Felix is with him now, and it's almost overwhelming to know, to even to begin to know this is what he is -- what they are? For he spills open just as Dimitri does, and he will be known. 

The first clear thing understood in the drift: oh, _oh, oh oh --_ it feels like a blue more vibrant than the edges on the Aegis Bladed, it's a hum like the premonition of the Mach Winter's core igniting, and suddenly they know what they want, and for Felix it's too much.

Like a drowning man finding the surface, Felix gasps as he snaps out of the drift. The AI faintly reports the neural bridge disengaged. Felix is tearing off the helmet, discarding it, Dimitri doing the same. His world still shifting and settling back into its state of single ownership, Felix nevertheless stumbles to Dimitri who's already grasping to steady him.

"Felix --" Dimitri starts, cutting himself off, looking at Felix, eyes to nose to lips. Felix knows the invitation; he kisses Dimitri. As awkward and thrilling as their first drift, Dimitri returns it surely. He wraps his arms around Felix, and Felix does the same, his hands looking for purchase on his body. 

***

"Why didn't you tell me before the drift," Felix asks Dimitri about this new, not-so-new thing between them, the next day.

"Well," Dimitri says, coloring, "I didn't really think you would . . . go for it."

Felix considers this. "Did -- did my _brother_ influence you?!"

"Not directly," Dimitri protests.

"Oh god, does he know now," Felix says, looking panicked or mortified or both as the thought comes to him.

"I'm not at all good at hiding things in the drift," Dimitri admits. 

"Oh _god_ ," Felix repeats, looking as if he's seen 50 ghosts at once.

"Well, the drift is two-way. Glenn thinks it's . . . cute . . . or funny . . . and he approves," Dimitri concludes, the pink staying in his cheeks and tips of his ears.

Felix is already pulling out his phone and texting his brother a furious warning to _shut it._

His phone buzzes as Glenn replies. There's only a row of laughing-crying emojis.

Teasing from Glenn doesn't stop Dimitri from escaping his quarters to stay with Felix that night.

Or setting up another secret practice drift, since their first didn't result in useable data.

***

Dimitri and Glenn still run to the halfway point at the seawall every morning, and stall at the rocks below for some precious moments.

This morning, Dimitri asks Glenn if he's taken Ingrid there yet.

"Yeah," Glenn says with a smile. "She liked it. I knew she would." He turns to Dimitri in the sea spray. "You and Fe?"

Dimitri shakes his head. "No. It's -- it's just been a few days," he says.

"Longer than that in your head," Glenn almost chortles.

"Glenn, what do you honestly think? I -- in the drift, I know you're fine with it, and you think it's so amusing, that's all I see . . ."

"Oh don't get me wrong, you two are hilarious. You'll cause _quite_ the stir when everyone finds out. I anticipate that greatly," Glenn says, that scheming glimmer in his eye. "But seriously. You're a good man, Mitya. Fe needs someone like you. Not like me, he's already too much like me. You two will make a stellar pair of Rangers. Make sure you give Ingrid and I a run for our money when we're both in Jaegers someday soon, huh?"

Dimitri wipes his hair back, sweat and cold sea spray a familiar dampness. He nods. "Thank you," he says, not too audible above the waves. "But we're still a team. If they ever need you and me back together again, I'll be ready." His face is serious, a confident duty.

Glenn slaps him on the shoulder and turns to make the ascent back to the seawall. "On the money, bro. And not like you need my approval though! Fe'll learn to do what he wants. Lambert's the one I'd worry about! Ahahah! Oh I can't _wait_ to see the look on his face!"

It takes some time for Dimitri to quell that raucous laugh as they resume their run.

***

For now, Felix and Dimitri steal time to be together. They are still new. They shape what they've found, not ready for the touch of outsiders.

There is a plan for a big reveal to the Marshal and Rodrigue in two weeks, which will be right around Felix's first round of drift testing, in time to hopefully get Ingrid on the list. What can Lambert do if his unruly Rangers want to forge their own path, and they can prove that it's the right one to take?

But.

But, one day, not a week later, Ingrid and another senior Predictions staff run bursting into the meeting the Marshal and his General are holding with the West PPDC. Ingrid's face is pale.

All Jaegers are immediately mobilized; from their 'Dome, and others. It's still not going to be enough for the signatures that Predictions has picked up. How they didn't see it sooner? Unknown. An anomaly. A cursed, deadly anomaly. It's a second breach to accompany the one already existing, spewing more alien life into the oceans.

So Lambert dons his drivesuit. (Though Rodrigue tries to stop him.) The Marshal and Anselma, his second wife, to the Aegis Bladed. Dimitri and Glenn, to the Mach Winter. Ashe and Annette, to the Azure Typhoon.

Rodrigue's face is as hard as steel, as he stands in LOCCENT the whole time, over Kieper's shoulder. Shoulders taut, both his bad one and his good one.

When it's all over – and it's not easy to turn that kind of hell over, no, it isn't -- the Azure Typhoon has pulled through, and its pilots have two more kills on the record.

The Aegis Bladed? The Mark IV Jaeger has to be fished from the sea, cabled up, battered and broken to the 'Dome.

The bodies of its pilots are not recoverable from the depths.

And the Mach Winter? That Jaeger washes up on Russian shore, 7 hours later.

Without Glenn.

The Pacific Rim reels.

So does Dimitri.

***

Mercedes, head physician of the medical centre at the 'Dome, gives a quiet, somber update to the small and personal crowd waiting outside the ICU wing.

Rodrigue – now their Marshal – is there. With Felix, Sylvain, Ashe and Annette, other higher-ranking officers and personnel on-dome. Only Ingrid is missing. Everyone wants to know how the late Marshal's son is. Everyone's hoping for the best. 

Mercie holds her tablet in one hand as she starts speaking. "Data shows the neural bridge was intact until Glenn . . . passed. The kind of acute physiological effects of that kind of trauma are not well-known, and there is no literature on the chronic effects."

Why? Because, if one pilot dies, the remaining pilot will likely meet their end soon after their copilot: no time for research. The overwhelming majority of Ranger deaths are in pairs.

"However, Dimitri also piloted the Mach Winter solo for at least 3 hours, based on the data that maintenance recovered from the Winter's central log. The effects of this strain are better understood. Combined with the stresses of Glenn's passing, though, we should not expect that developed therapies will be totally effective. Dimitri will not be piloting for some time, during which he will be under our careful supervision and a rehabilitation plan we are developing."

Rodrigue shakes his head. He looks dazed; his shoulders still up, tensed.

"How . . . how long is 'some time'?" he asks Mercie.

"I'm sorry Marshal, but I don't know," Mercie says. If you were watching, you would see the barest of flinches pass Rodrigue's face at the use of the title. "We will know more once he wakes up." Mercie's tablet lights up with a notification sound. "Oh – we're flying in a drift psych specialist from Warsaw to assist with developing a treatment plan. He's arrived. Excuse me, everyone." With a nod, Mercie hurries off.

***

Felix sits in the corner of the Kwoon that night at 19:45. This was the time Glenn would usually meet him to spar. A half hour later, Dimitri to replace Glenn as Felix's opponent.

The pad is warmly lit and oh so empty.

Felix doesn't move much, but his hands are balled into fists and his knuckles are white.

After a while, Ingrid enters. Her eyes are red.

She looks around and finds Felix. Goes to sit beside him.

They do not appear to comfort each other, but nevertheless, remain there in silence.

***

"He died like a true Ranger," is the phrase burned into Felix's mind from Glenn's memorial. From the mouth of his own father.

As if Rangers are meant to die.

Felix will long remember staring at the framed picture of his brother above the casket, and the feeling of his sleeve scrubbing water away from his eyes as he tries to stop the contortion of his mouth. His tears are hot with anger. He glares at the picture: Glenn is preserved with a grinning smile, photo taken after his Ranger certification. Taunts have no effect on the dead, but Felix yells at him in his mind, as if he could hear. As if he could come back. 

Rows of dark-suited PPDC staff are gathered here, in the off-dome center, capacity still not enough to host all who would attend. Felix's uncle flew in for the funeral. Ingrid, Sylvain, Ashe, Annette, Rangers from the Nagasaki 'Dome even, are here. Felix looks at Ingrid once and she's stiff, without any tears, without much of anything on her face. 

Dimitri is not here. He is still in intense care at the 'Dome.

Felix's head hurts as the memorial draws on and he blocks out the rest of the speeches.

The shuddering thought crosses his mind that this is not the end of the services he's attended (one for the Marshal, one for his wife, before this). Will he have to stand here again? For Dimitri?

No. No, there has to be something left, after all this.

Rangers aren't meant to die.

A loathing coils in Felix's gut, for those words from Rodrigue's mouth. 

***

Dimitri still does not awake. A few days pass.

There is everything to do, and nothing to do, at the same time.

For the time being, Felix sits by Dimitri's side. Looks at him like it's the only thing still tying him down, like his attention alone can coax him out of sleep.

The feeling that Glenn will walk in at any moment, the realization that he won't, cycles.

Nurses walk in. Mercie. Rodrigue. Other visitors. The specialist who was flown in, Dedue or something.

Feels like Felix is only half-there. Half-existing. But he has to be there. Dimitri _will_ wake up.

***

He does.

Felix doesn't stay when Dimitri stirs. Instead he leaps up and goes to alert the nurse, who fetches Mercie. He waits outside while they do evaluations and whatnot.

Finally Mercie re-emerges from the room.

"How long until he's better?" Felix asks the chief doctor.

"You know, Felix, our psychologist mentioned they're having a hard time getting you in," Mercie starts, with a critical purse of her lips.

"How long until Dimitri's better?" Felix insists. "He woke up now, can't you tell?"

Mercie's lips quirk in small, sad smile. Apparently at Felix's insistence. Felix feels his face contort, scowling at her reaction. "We're doing some imaging. Give us some time," she says, reaching a hand for Felix's shoulder.

He twists away and stalks off. Not far. Detour to the task in Receiving that Rodrigue asked of him, then back to the imaging department.

***

Felix strains to see what the techs are looking at on their computers, through the glass, as the images form. Dimitri is another panel of glass beyond, inside the MRImachine. His head is in a brace for the scan. The techs talk to him over a speaker, but Felix can't make out what they're saying. 

Felix waits impatiently until Mercie's gone in, talked to the techs, comes back out.

"Well?" Felix asks her, and it sounds more desperate and less demanding than intended. "How – how long till he's better?"

Mercie's blue eyes are too soft and too sad.

"If you mean until he can pilot again . . . I . . . I don't know if he ever will."

Felix is so angry he could cry.

He turns on his heel and walks out, so Mercie won't see his tears. Brushes past Rodrigue, who's likely on his way to receive the same news. Feels his father's eyes on his back, and almost turns around. But doesn't.

***

It has been a month since breach two. Things are going at full tilt. There's been one double-event, which other Shatterdomes had to handle; West PPDC had to make the trek. The Aegis Bladed is decommissioned for financial reasons.

Ingrid keeps busy these days. Predictions has a lot of projects moving forward since breach two. Better detection systems are needed. They're still trying to piece together what exactly happened, and there's not a lot of evidence.

Felix hopes Ingrid doesn't think it's partly Prediction's fault -- her fault. He hopes she's more reasonable than that.

At any rate, tonight they lack her company. It's Felix, Sylvain, Ashe and Annette, and Dimitri in the dining hall. The berth of quiet space that other occupants leave around Dimitri is noticeable every time he eats in the public hall.

Dimitri, as usual since he woke up, looks out-of-it. He was back on his feet sooner than anyone expected. But . . . he has not been himself. As if Glenn sent him to a different world and now he can’t come back. Listless . . . that's one way to put it. Too calm. Too distracted. Sometimes it seems he can force a smile. But that's just it. Forced. He eats slowly, as if he forgets every other bite what he's doing. They're mostly finished. Dimitri's not much for conversation; so far, it's been the other four filling the talking space. Seems they've run out of items to discuss for the moment.

Annette clears her dishes with a quiet excuse, taking Ashe's; Ashe looks like he's about to say something to Dimitri but instead opens his phone.

Felix sighs sharply. Sylvain looks at him. Felix ignores him and turns to Dimitri.

"Spar with me tonight. Just . . . practice stances, even."

One of those forced smiles.

"I should probably report to Mercedes," he says.

"You're not going to get better unless you try," Felix points out.

" _Felix_ ," Sylvain groans, putting his head in his hands.

"I -- I am trying," Dimitri continues, his smile wobbling.

"Not hard enough," Felix snaps.

"Why are you so intolerable lately?"

This from behind Felix. He looks over his shoulder; Ingrid approaches, for a late dinner.

"Why can't you leave him alone," she continues accusingly after Felix is too flustered to gather a response.

"In case you forgot," Felix retorts, gathering himself, "We've been explicitly _requested_ to keep him company."

"And not to goad him into over-exerting himself! He doesn't need _your_ kind of company!" Ingrid slams her food down on the table.

"Guys --" Sylvain starts. Ashe quietly excuses himself.

"As if you'd be any better at helping him," Felix sneers.

"Well yeah, I think so, compared to you! I didn't turn into an asshole the moment Glenn died!"

Felix's eyes widen for a moment at the name of the dead, then again narrow. "Hah! At least I'm still around, not hiding my face in books and computers!"

"I have _work_ to do! Unlike you! What the fuck have you been doing for the past month?!"

"That's your problem, it's been one fucking month and you're working like nothing happened --"

Ingrid jabs a finger at Felix, leaning across the table into his space. "Don't tell me that nothing happened. You. You _know_ Glenn was -- was my future," she says, her expression growing as sharp and hurtful as Felix's.

The air seems to crackle with the threat of an all-out screaming match, maybe blows.

"Sure." Felix's lips twist into a dead grin for a moment. "But he was also my brother." There is no rebuttal to that. Felix withdraws. Casts a sidelong glance at Dimitri, who seems to be quite removed from the moment. 

" . . . Great job, guys," Sylvain calls sarcastically after Felix as he goes. 

Ingrid presses a hand to her temple and shoves Sylvain away as he tries to comfort her. 

***

Who should show up in the Kwoon at 20:15, as Felix is sitting under the rack of decorative swords along one wall?

Felix leaps to his feet as Dimitri picks his way towards the stand of bos, his face set.

They wordlessly each take a staff, assume places on opposite sides of the mat.

And when Dimitri advances, his placid, inward demeanor shatters. He is putting all of his strength and more into this. Felix, caught by surprise, is momentarily driven back. As the _thwack, thwack, thwack_ and huffs of exertion fill the Kwoon, Felix suddenly has the feeling that this is not Dimitri against him, or Dimitri with him. Dimitri is fighting something else, something he sees in Felix's place.

It is entirely unsettling. Felix tries to collect himself and win the match, but Dimitri is an onslaught he wasn't prepared for. Soon enough, a lancing stab and lever from Dimitri rips the bo from Felix's hands and in the next moment, he's knocked backwards. But there is no bo at his chest and no call of point; instead, Dimitri kneels over him and pins him there, flattened. Felix is frozen there, on his back, and he might even be frightened for one or two seconds until he feels Dimitris grip on his wrists start to shake and falter. The fire fades from Dimitri's expression as easily as it had ignited.

"Point," Felix says, hesitantly, but Dimitri doesn't get up from on top Felix. He shakes, breath shuddering in and out, his eyes roaming Felix's face but avoiding his gaze.

"I am . . . sorry," Dimitri says faintly, their eyes connecting for just a moment. And then he's gone again. Standing up, attention to the middle distance. 

Felix wants to tell him to not be sorry. Nothing is his fault. Nothing! Nothing is his fucking fault! Nothing is _anyone's_ fault! 

"Dimitri -- no -- what was that?! What was that?!" is what comes out instead, as he gets to his feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm tired," is all he gets for a reply, as Dimitri racks his bo. He gives Felix another one of those fake, forced smiles, and turns to go without another word, his head half-bowed.

Felix doesn't know what to do. He stands there, bo still clenched in one hand.

He's furious.

***

This fury, this anger that has no target, bubbles and grows in Felix for another few months, as Dimitri spends half his life in the medical wing, as he doesn't spar with Felix, as he doesn't get better, only more detached. His smiles are more frequent, but just as forced, like he's learning to be something he's not.

Felix hates it. 

And then, one day, Dimitri leaves.

And Rodrigue lets him go.

Felix's anger festers.

* * *

* * *

_Present Day: 2025_

That same anger is called to the surface, too familiar, as the Marshal returns to the Hong Kong 'Dome with Dimitri in tow, a half a decade later.

Felix stops and waits, rain pattering lightly on his hood, as the two draw near across the asphalt from the helicopter pad. Between transport and personnel working up top and passing between them, Felix inspects the returning traveler. Dimitri has filled out. Though he's always been built heavier than Felix, he's taller, wider in the shoulders now. The eyepatch – that's an unexpected change. Felix is curious. Curious about that, and to see if Dimitri's changed in invisible ways. Gotten any better.

(Probably not?)

"Felix," Rodrigue says as they come up to him and stop. "I appreciate the welcome."

Felix nails Dimitri with an adjudicating stare.

Dimitri stares back with his now-lone blue eye.

Felix quells whatever chaos that stare might drill up and out of him, things he's buried and slammed shut. Instead: "You think he's fit to pilot?" Felix says to Rodrigue in Cantonese, critical.

To his surprise, Dimitri must have understood, for he replies to Felix in the same tongue, poorly but understandable: " _You_ don't think so?"

"Tch," Felix says. Back in English: "Clearly you've not spent all these past 5 years in Alaska."

"Perhaps not," Dimitri says, and Felix raises an eyebrow at his tone. His voice is lower than it was when he left.

Rodrigue just looks slightly amused. Fond, even?

One of the UN reps on-dome hurries up to Rodrigue, asking for his attention to something.

"Would you show Dimitri to the dome, Felix? He should meet Byleth," Rodrigue says. Turns to Dimitri, claps a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome back, Dimitri. We are all glad to have you."

Felix scowls internally at the warmth from Rodrigue to Dimitri. As if Dimitri never had run off, as if he'd never refused to come back. Refused Sylvain, Ingrid, _Felix's_ ask to return. So why now?

"Thank you," Dimitri says to Rodrigue, but it doesn't hold the brightness and comfort of tone Felix remembers so well. It's even and low and maybe still far away.

Rodrigue bids them a momentary farewell and hurries off with the UN rep. Felix sighs shortly. He's used to being at his old man's beck and call. Usually acquiesces, as he does now.

"Come on," he says to Dimitri, turns around and walks back to the elevator which will take them back inside. Dimitri keeps pace with him. He's a half-foot taller. It's enough to annoy Felix and his not-quite-5'-9" frame.

A small transport team walks out; Felix and Dimitri trade them places as the closing alarm light starts to flash. Diamond-plate floor is scuffed and dirty underneath.

"What have you been doing," Dimitri says, maybe only to cut the silence.

"You're the one who needs to give an explanation, not me," Felix replies.

"Was on the Wall," Dimitri replies. Apparently he's not going to speak any more on that _maybe not_ from earlier.

They stare at each other.

Now's not the time to ask why he wouldn't come back. Not the time. But sooner or later, Dimitri's going to have to give a damn good reason.

It was a long time ago they both stood in this same elevator, alone.

Felix breaks their gaze long before the elevator judders to a stop at the destination floor.

***

Byleth joined their ranks around this time a couple years ago. The young woman was a precocious admiral with military experience. Her father worked for Seiros Industries. There was surely some hand-shaking involved in getting her to the PPDC. Not that she's insufficient for the position.

Felix hasn't decided if he likes her or not, and maybe never well. She's at the gym often enough, and he's crossed staffs with her in the Kwoon enough times to know she's skilled. (And they're probably not drift compatible.) She's become Rodrigue's closest advisor; her knowledge of how to attack from the sea is unparalleled among their staff in recent history. The Kaiju threat has scaled up since breach two, and it's only since Byleth joined them that they seem to have a decent handle on the situation.

She's not the personable type, though. Doesn't necessarily rub Felix the wrong way. Just a little odd.

Dimitri seems adjudicating as he shakes her hand at the entrance to the busy Jaeger bay. Her expression is unmoving as usual. All business. Her hair, a bleached blue-green, is tied up in a bun.

After the introductions, Byleth turns to Felix.

"I'll show him the Jaeger bay."

"He already knows his way around," Felix retorts.

"We've re-lifed two Jaegers in the past years, one of them your old Jaeger. Completely new core."

Now Byleth's got Dimitri's attention.

"Fine. Enjoy your tour." Felix turns and leaves Dimitri to Byleth. Stalks away. Gonna go find Sylvain and Ingrid, tell them it worked, give them first impressions, prepare them to meet strange creature that's returned to the 'Dome.

***

Felix leans in at the doorway of K-Science room 1147. Watches Sylvain up to his (gloved) wrists in Kaiju goo, digging into some blob that's vaguely purple and tessellated with fleshy patterns reminding Felix of honeycombs.

Weird or not, it's nice to see someone enjoying their job around here.

Sylvain, humming to himself, eventually looks up.

"Oh hey. Felix! Is your dad back yet? Don't tell me he messed it up and didn't find Dimitri."

"Actually, he did find Dimitri," Felix says, wandering in and leaning against the desk next to the chalkboards and whiteboards on the other side of the room.

Sylvain looks surprised. "And he came? Here?"

"Yep."

"Wh -- where is he?" Sylvain keeps his hands suspended above the kaiju specimen as he leans back in his chair to look past Felix.

"On a tour with Byleth. Happily ignoring me, and you. Tch," Felix says.

Sylvain makes a face.

"I know," Felix laughs, no humor.

"God . . . so we couldn't convince him to come back, but your dad could." Sylvain strips his gloves into the biohazard bin and scoots over on his wheeled chair to the sink to wash his hands.

Felix refuses to comment on this. Rodrigue had their help in locating Dimitri; that's enough to salvage some of Felix's pride.

You'd think, if you were there when Dimitri left, that there would be joy upon his return. You'd think they'd all leap up to welcome him. But things heal in five years. Start to feel whole, leaving the missing pieces out of the new picture. Sylvain, Ingrid, Felix - they've made something, and you know, it's alright. It's a decent existence. Dimitri -- is he an intruder, now? Thus the quiet response. Thus the caution.

"He's got an eyepatch," Felix informs Sylvain.

"An eyepatch?!" Sylvain crumples paper towel between his hands and tosses that in the trash as well. "Why?"

"I don't know," Felix shakes his head. "Just a heads up. Where's Ingrid?"

Right on cue, Ingrid walks in, holding a stack of blue books in her arms. She stops beside Felix at her desk. "Is Rodrigue back already?"

"Yes, and Dimitri's with him," Felix informs her. "And thanks for your help."

"Don't mention it."

"He's got an eyepatch," Sylvain chimes in.

"I heard from the hallway," Ingrid says critically. Her gaze goes down to a blob of something Kaiju on the floor. She kicks it over to Sylvain. "Entrails on _your_ side of the room," she chides him. Turns back to Felix. "He's not with you?"

Felix explains where Dimitri's gone.

"Oh," Ingrid says. She sets her books down on her desk. "Then you still have time to clean up, Sylvain."

The redhead's wearing a wrinkled white shirt with a scraggly black tie. Sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showing colourful Kaiju-inspired tattoos on his forearms. "When do I ever clean up?" he says with a grin.

Ingrid marches over to another offending bit of kaiju encroaching on her space. Kicks that back over to Sylvain's side of the room. "Clearly never. You seem to purposefully avoid any work that involves a BSC when I'm around."

"Aww Ingrid, you know it's because I just love hanging out with you," Sylvain cajoles her.

"No, it's because there's only room in your heart for women and Kaiju," Ingrid shakes her head and turns to her chalkboards, pulling down an upper one to erase.

"And there's not enough of either around here to keep me interested," Sylvain complains.

All these two do is bicker, it seems; yet, they're friends. After all, they arranged for this shared workspace.

"I think female candidates are purposefully rejected because you'd be too much of a risk with them around," Ingrid pronounces confidently, finishing her erasing.

"Why'd they hire you then? Ahahah!" Sylvain jabs.

"I must have been the final woman enlisted before they reached the on-dome female:Sylvain ratio cap," Ingrid rebuts. She takes her phone out of a suit-jacket pocket and starts typing.

Felix scoffs. "I came here to let you know Dimitri's back, not to listen to children argue," he comments, and turns to go.

"Hey, wait up," Sylvain says, getting up from his chair. "Ingrid, c'mon. Let's go crash whatever tour Byleth's got Dimitri on."

Ingrid dips her head, placing her phone down on the stack of blue books. "I . . . alright. I just don't have high hopes. For Dimitri. After he's been gone this long. After it seemed like he didn't want to ever come back."

No one disagrees.

"What's it been? Five years, about," Sylvain says, shaking his head.

Felix's thoughts wander back to Glenn.

As he's sure Sylvain's and Ingrid's do too, in a moment of silence.

Sylvain shrugs, breaking the silence. "Well, I guess we'll see how he is. Come on. Lead the way, Fifi."

Felix side-tackles Sylvain at this nickname. Sylvain just laughs.

They've healed, as best as can be expected.

But Dimitri?

***

They find him, and take him to the dining hall for lunch. Byleth excuses herself; whether she actually has something to do or is thoughtfully giving them some time together, Felix doesn't know.

The reunion is strange.

Dimitri answers questions shortly; avoidant at best and curt at worst. He affords a smile here and there, but it's not cheerful. They all catch his gaze going past them, through them. Trade looks to confirm they're all seeing this. Dimitri's got something else on his mind. And this is not the same troubled Dimitri that left them. No, this one is different.

Conversation remains light. Nobody mentions Anything. It feels too delicate, yet, to even ask why he came back now. He gives no more detail of what he's been doing all this time other than _working on the Wall._

Eventually Rodrigue comes by to take Dimitri somewhere else for his card and uniform, all the red tape sort of things.

Felix snorts.

"What," Ingrid says as the three of them are alone again.

"Surely the Marshal's got better things to do," Felix mutters.

"He misses Dimitri," Ingrid says plainly.

"Obviously," Felix says acerbically. He can't put into words how _he_ still misses Dimitri, despite the physical form of the man on-dome. There's something lacking yet.

Sylvain stretches and yawns. "You think Rodrigue noticed Dimitri's acting weird? Like maybe he's better but weird?"

"Maybe, but maybe it doesn't matter to him as long as he's back." The corner of Ingrid's mouth quirks down. "I don't like it, though," she says quietly. "And he didn't mention his eye."

"He really didn't mention anything," Sylvain points out. "I'm not buying his welder story. Not five whole years working on the wall."

Felix's phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his jacket pocket. Leonie.

"Shit, I said I'd spar with her at 1," he says, gets up, grabbing his empty dish.

"I need to get back to predictions," Ingrid says, following suit.

But Felix pauses before heading to the trash, and so does Ingrid. They stand there and things feel awkward for a few moments. Do they all go back to their routines, with Dimitri back on-dome? Well, what else should they be doing?

"I guess I can find some more sequencing to do," Sylvain says, with a half-laugh confirming they're sharing the same unspoken thought, last to pick up his plate. Breaks the tension. They resume their trajectories.

 _Keep going:_ that dogged strategy seems to have been the most trustworthy over the years.

***

Felix goes to shower after his Kwoon session and then gym with Leonie.

His thoughts are more tangled than his hair. Chopped it a few years ago, but now it's almost as long as it was before he was a Ranger. 

Felix's first drop was with Ingrid. Yes, Rodrigue did try running them together, not too long after Felix passed his final Ranger certification and Ingrid did as well (the dead's wishes). Needless to say, relatively fresh off Glenn's death, it was an absolute mess. They barely made it into the water before neural bridge snapped, LOCCENT recalled them. Never again.

Then, along came Leonie Pinelli. She transferred from PPDC West, went to the American Academy. They were easily drift compatible. Too easy. Cut from the same kinda cloth; prefer _do_ to _talk_. They've had eight drops, six kills. For the most part, they can go in, get their job done, get out. Have some fun. They may not get the star role, go down as the stuff of legend – Rodrigue doesn't seem to trust Felix enough to let them loose on the front lines. He actively chooses other Ranger pairs whenever he can. Will even sometimes take the Aussie Jaeger's help, pilots Khalid and Hilda, before sending Felix and Leonie. But Felix will take what he can get from his old man, who filled up Felix's time with other duties, until Byleth came along. Nowadays, Felix is mostly just up to no good. Spending a lot of time in simulations. 

Will anything change now that Dimitri's back? Has he thwarted Mercie's prediction; will he be a pilot again after all? Certainly, Rodrigue would like him to, that much is clear. Felix _would_ have been the obvious first choice for drift testing years ago, if Ingrid and Glenn had left Dimitri without a copilot. Yes, the other brother would be the first pick. Felix wonders now if that will hold. Rodrigue had been Lambert's copilot for years before his injury, after all: something seems to get along between these two bloodlines. _Drift compatible._ They've been in the PPDC since the start, fighting the Kaiju from the Asiatic side. Through the cold and the blood, whether human red or Kaiju blue.

Dimitri and Felix _have_ drifted before.

Not that anyone knows.

Not that Felix wants to remember that. Not that he wants to think about that. 

Past is the past, Felix has taught himself, with moderate success. Going forward is what counts. But _going forward_ could have been better. Dimitri could've stayed.

Felix and Dimitri could have still been copilots. All these years.

Could have, could have, could have.

***

Rodrigue has PCT – physical compatibility testing - on the schedule for Dimitri the very next day; no surprise.

This is pretty much the highlight of the day, week, month, _year_ almost, for everyone on-dome. Used to be a rule against streaming the event when Lambert was Marshal, but under Rodrigue, you're allowed as long as you stay on the 'Dome network. Good thing, as the Kwoon with its three sparring pads is small enough you can fit maybe only a hundred live spectators, fifty squished in on each open side of the room. That capacity in contrast to the 500-odd personnel on dayshift.

Testing set to begin 1400 on Wednesday. Felix would usually be in the role of moderator, but Byleth holds the tablet and stands next to Rodrigue.

Felix used to be more of an assistant to Rodrigue, besides his Ranger duties, before Byleth got here. He'd been responsible for a few things, not that he did them very well. . . training schedules for the Academy interns, reporting to Rodrigue on an endless list of things. Spectating this series of matchups in the Kwoon is a much better alternative than whatever he'd have found to do otherwise.

Dimitri wears a tank top and loose pants. Hefts a bo, firm grip, goes to his side of the mat. Felix eyes him. Whatever he was doing the past 5 years, it's got to have involved heavy weights and enough food.

There's a lineup of 6 potential candidates. Some East PPDC, a couple West, if Felix remembers Academy faces correctly.

A woman who looks to be Dimitri's senior is the first up. Felix faintly remembers her from doing some paperwork for Rodrigue; she's Kazakh.

Byleth initiates the match.

Felix was expecting what he knows to be Dimitri's sparring style.

What Dimitri serves is not . . . well, it's not Dimitri.

Sparring in the Kwoon is supposed to be a way to show you understand your opponent. It's not meant to be a show of strength. It's not a battlefield. It's a time-tested method to suggest the physical component of drift compatibility. It should almost – almost – be more of a dance, than a battle. A physical conversation.

But Dimitri cracks a grin as he puts his full strength into every strike. Driving back his opponent, heedless of her own strategy, her own style. He's quickly knocked the woman onto her back, bo at her chest.

Byleth calls point. Scattered applause, mostly from those who don't know Dimitri or the Kwoon well enough to pick up that this is wrong. Felix glances at Rodrigue, who wears a slight frown to see this display.

They resume starting stances; Byleth initiates the match. Again, Dimitri wastes little time and appears to spare little thought for his opponent. Brute force; this time the woman does better at turning away his advances, but still ends up defeated.

Byleth calls point.

The applause is thinner this time.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" Felix finds himself yelling at Dimitri in the brief silence as the two combatants resume their places. His feet move him towards the rack of bos, intent on picking one up and knocking some sense into –

-but Rodrigue puts a very firm hand on his shoulder.

"Felix, please," Rodrigue says.

Between his tone, and Byleth's glare, Felix angrily shakes his father's grip off and stalks away from the Kwoon.

Let them do what they want. Let them let _Dimitri_ do what he wants.

Fuck.

***

20:15.

Felix can't help himself. He shows up. Kind of hoping Dimitri isn't there.

But he is, already waiting, bo in hand.

"What's your _fucking_ problem?!" Felix repeats his question from earlier. He only gets a snort from Dimitri. With a few quick strides, Felix is at the rack of bos. Pulls one out, twirls it in his grip, and takes up stance opposite Dimitri. "You were fighting, not sparring. Fighting like a _boar._ Where has your sense gone?" And Felix runs at him with the first advance.

Dimitri's countenance shows the thrill of the fight. He readies his stance. When their bos meet, and Felix is thrown back by Dimitri's strength, he can tell his opponent's doing exactly what he did earlier. Almost gleefully putting his full strength into every strike.

He wants to play that way? Fine. Felix will be the better man. He'll show him, he thinks, stepping back, blocking or turning aside Dimitri's onslaught.

The room fills with the _thwack, thwack, thwack_ of wood on wood. Felix doesn't bother attacking; he defends until Dimitri's pushed him to the edge of the mat, then pivots and lets Dimitri chase him to another border. Learning the man's new game as quickly as he can. Studying each strike, looking for similarities, trying to translate technique to strategy.

Dimitri has always been stronger, Felix always faster. Dimitri has always leveraged the reach of the staff, good at long movements and bold onslaughts; Felix finding expertise in the way he can wield halves as a whole, using both ends, staff twisting and turning in his grip.

They knew each other's sparring style well, back then.

It's been a long 5 years.

But if Dimitri thinks Felix has gone soft, he's thought wrong.

"I thought you wanted to _spar_ ," Dimitri taunts; a brief pause before Felix feints away and Dimitri's bo chases him.

"I do," Felix pants briefly. He's understood enough by now. There's not much of a pattern, but he's got a plan for when Dimitri next – aha! There's the opening! Felix moves in, deflects the oncoming blow, squats down to pivot, bets on what Dimitri would do in return, and wins. Step two: rotates his staff, momentum to leap up, over the lancing reach of Dimitri's bo. He knocks Dimitri off balance with a strike to his ankle and then he's won, as Dimitri fumbles to one knee, as Felix's staff goes to the base of his neck.

Dimitri's expression is surprised for a moment, but that quickly morphs into a smile that doesn't sit right with Felix. He gets back to his feet but Felix keeps his staff pointed up, below his foe's chin. Foe, not partner.

"What's wrong with you?" Felix says bitingly. "Don't you remember how to spar properly?!" _How to_ _spar with me?_

"Again," is all Dimitri gives in response, with an irksome grin. He raises his staff vertical with one hand, pushes himself up, again launching himself at Felix.

Instinctively, Felix returns his bo to a guarding position, fends off a few hits in succession although the final one is served with such force that he staggers back, staff ringing mutely in his hands. That's all Dimitri needs. His bo sweeps out to upset Felix's stance. Even as Felix dances over the staff's reach, he knows this is what Dimitri wants from him; sure enough, there's the hard end of the bo at his chest, as he catches his balance at the edge of the mat.

"You don't even want to pilot, do you?!" Felix says, disgusted, pushing Dimitri's bo down. There's an unspoken ' _with me'_ in that question.

Huh, this seems to draw a reaction. "What makes you think I need to," Dimitri snarls. He paces in a few steps, close to Felix, eye wide, and Felix's spine shivers as he realizes Dimitri's looking through him. "I know who's responsible. Who needs to pay." His gaze drops to connect with Felix. The way he looks – Felix suddenly has the ugly realization in his gut that this Dimitri is much, much worse than the already troubled Dimitri who left, those years ago. "Seiros. Edelgard."

With that, he turns, racks his bo, and leaves the Kwoon. Not a glance back at Felix.

***

Seiros Industries started off as a Kaiju disposal company shortly after the Onibaba attack, but since then has expanded to a full-fledged research organization working closely with the PPDC. It now has a Jaeger tech division, and its reps frequent the 'Dome. Still, the company's most known for its premium knowledge and rights to Kaiju biology, and anything useful that might come of the alien material due to its research efforts. Sylvain would easily have gone there had his friends not all routed to the Hong Kong 'Dome.

It _is_ a fact that, shortly after breach two, Seiros Industries began to grow in international influence, Edelgard – an acquaintance from the Academy - near the helm as her father, the CEO, fell ill. Seiros posted growths quarter after quarter due to research successes. It made sense: another breach, more Kaiju to work with.

And now Dimitri's implying they opened breach two to instigate this rise in success? Edelgard in particular was behind it somehow? Sounds far-fetched. Kaiju are barely understood, less so how they even come to this world – and Dimitri thinks a human is responsible for breach two. Felix doesn't _want_ to care about Dimitri's ideas, especially given the fact that Dimitri's not quite . . . right. He's different. Not in a good way. Granted, Felix hasn't been the same since breach two either. He's at least got enough self-awareness to know that. But at least he saw a psychologist for a year or so after.

Felix is allowed to be angry. He grabbed onto all that shit from the psychologist about allowing yourself be angry, and probably forgot the part where you have to then make sure it doesn't impair your life. Sometimes he can't help it. He gets so angry he'll shake, his body will start disconnecting from the reason of his head.

But it's not that often, so whatever, his life is fine. Dimitri's the one with the problems – that's clear as day.

As Felix lies awake in his quarters that night, he can't stop himself from running over the spar with his old friend-and-more, his soon-to-be then not-to-be copilot. The ferocity in his blows. The way he said someone needs to pay, for breach two. And from the moment he was back on-dome, the way he doesn't seem to care for Felix at all. The way it was him against Felix on the floor of the Kwoon today, not them joined in the dance of combat, not them as they were those precious few weeks before breach two.

Not gonna lie, that kind of fucking hurts. And Felix knows there's only gonna be more pain if he wants answers.

But he does. He needs answers.

So he resolves. Somehow, he has to drift with Dimitri -- whatever Dimitri's become -- again. He needs inside his head.

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE PACIFIC RIM SO MUCH I HAD TO DO THIS. i hope this was at least a little food for thought. i didn't really want to end it here but i would have to write 150,000 more words to get to a nice ending so unfortunately it's just all bad and angsty now. i wish y'all could see my plot notes. I have so much about the black eagles / the church in this AU and didn't even scratch the surface. ANYWAYS THANKS FOR READING!! luv y'all


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